


The Dog Days of Summer stories

by sostrata



Series: The Hole in the Ground [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Fluff, Godfather Sirius Black, Harry Potter was Raised by Remus Lupin and Sirius Black, Post-First War with Voldemort, Raising Harry, Summer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-01
Updated: 2018-05-26
Packaged: 2019-03-25 12:11:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13834032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sostrata/pseuds/sostrata
Summary: A group of ficlets about Remus and Sirius raising Harry, set during various summers.





	1. Household Decorating, summer 1982

**Author's Note:**

> These are some ficlets I wrote for the 2017 edition of Dog Days of Summer on livejournal (a Remus/Sirius prompting community). They are all related to my fic Christmas 1982, though you don't have to read that. They're set in the same 'verse, where Remus and Sirius are raising Harry in an underground house called The Hole in the Ground. You'll find a description of the house in the series summary.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sirius decorates Harry's room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dog Days of Summer Prompt 9: Aquarium

_late July, 1982_

Sirius regarded the bright blue expanse a little nervously. If he did what he planned, the pristine blue would be marred. It looked nice now; should he even bother trying for more? What if it went wrong? What if he could never hope to create what he wanted...

 _Look lively, man!_ said a voice in his head, a voice he hadn't heard in person in almost a year, but which he could still sometimes hear so clearly nonetheless. _If we'd hesitated over all our pranks, where would we be?_

Sirius smiled, envisioning ridiculous glasses, even more ridiculous black hair and a mischievous grin. Taking a deep breath, he dipped the brush in the bowl of orange paint and got to it. 

He completed the first fish and stood back to look at it critically. He was hardly an expert artist, and the fish looked rather wobbly, but a fish it was nevertheless. He smiled, pleased. Maybe he could do it after all and paint a whole aquarium on Harry's bedroom wall.

"The artist at work," came Remus's teasing voice from the doorway.

"Shut it," grumbled Sirius, already plotting his next creation.

"The door, or..."

Sirius snorted. "I'm concentrating."

"Yes, I can see that. This is very important work."

"It is, rather."

"Painting a wall?"

"The Book said that colours are important for young developing minds." _The Definitive Guide to Raising the Young Wizard_ (in Sirius's opinion the greatest book ever written) had much to say on the subject of decorating a child's room. Also, it was Harry's second birthday, and Sirius wanted to do something special to mark such an important occasion. 

Remus came over and studied the wall. “Nice fish,” he remarked. He nudged Sirius and then flicked his wand. The fish came to life and started swimming happily across the wall.

Sirius grinned and dipped his brush into the white paint so that he could make the fish a friend.


	2. Household Disasters, summer 1982

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sirius and Remus encounter problems in their early days of raising Harry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dog Days of Summer Prompt 3: "I’m always soft for you, that’s the problem. You could come knocking on my door five years from now and I would open my arms wider and say 'come here, it’s been too long, it felt like home with you.'"  
> – Azra T, “My Heart is Full of Open Windows”

Remus and Sirius sat quietly together on the gently sloping hill, evergreens at their backs and a beautiful landscape laid out below them- emerald green meadows, patchwork fields, the glistening white buildings of a small village, and undulating blue hills beyond. Their impromptu summer picnic was spread around them. Little Harry, just turning 2, was slumbering peacefully on a blanket.

They didn't do this often, as they weren't sure about their safety from the members of either side in the late war. Many of their former allies were still reluctant to believe in Sirius's innocence, and a number of Death Eaters had gone free in the aftermath, having _somehow_ convinced the fools in the Ministry that they had been under the Imperius Curse. 

But after the devastating events of the morning, they had both felt the need to get out of the house and into the fresh summer air. So they took the appropriate precautions- use of a previously scouted site, wards, and an Invisibility Cloak- to get away to a nice little picnic spot. They had done terrible things, and they needed to talk, preferably away from the scene of the crime. 

After an excruciatingly long and uncomfortable silence, Remus asked heavily, "What are we going to do?"

"I don't know," sighed Sirius.

"This is bad. Very, very bad."

"I know." Sirius stared miserably down into his chicken salad.

"And it's all my fault," continued Remus dully.

"No, it's mine."

"Don't be ridiculous. What's your fault may or may not be your fault, but what's my fault is, in fact, _entirely_ my fault."

"Fair enough."

"And what's my fault is worse than what's your fault."

"You're starting to babble."

"I know I am. Because of what I did."

"I did something too, you know."

"But mine was worse."

"I don't know about that."

"How can you say that?"

"Mine was stupid. I panicked."

Remus waved his hand dismissively. "It's not a problem, or at least not a major one. But as for mine...I can't think what my excuse is. _Why_ do you put up with me?"

Sirius's unhappy expression was chased away by a warm smile that did a good job of competing with the late afternoon summer sun for radiance. "You know, you could level our house, the entire hillside, and then the village, and as an encore turn me into a werewolf, steal all my socks and, I don't know, cancel Quidditch for all time, and I wouldn't kick you out."

Remus's tired face lit with an answering smile. "No? Not even after all that?"

"No," said Sirius firmly. 

"Hmm." Remus plucked up a stray yellow wildflower and studied it. "But what if I wanted to kick _you_ out?"

"I'd like to see you try. However, if you _did_ in some moment of insanity and then went wandering about the world in high tragic fashion, and then came weeping at my door years later, begging forgiveness, I'd let you right in." He sat back, looking pleased with himself.

"I wouldn't kick you out," admitted Remus. They gazed at each other a long moment with rather fatuous smiles, until Remus said, "Still, I'm a bit alarmed that you equate stealing your socks to destroying a village."

Sirius's eyes sparkled with mischief. "You have a point; I didn't realise I had such an attachment to them. But that's why I'll always keep you around- you make me discover things about myself that no one else would."

Remus snorted. "But back to the point at hand..."

Sirius heaved a great sigh. "Do we _have_ to?"

"Rather. Can you tell me exactly what happened?"

Sirius made a show of throwing up his hands. "Very _well_. There I was, in a Muggle store, looking for baby things, like you said, and I took a wrong turn and found myself surrounded by all these square-ish objects flashing bright lights at me, and there was the most awful noise. And there were people in them talking, and doing the strangest things. And I realise now of course that they were televisions, but I had never seen any _alive_ before." Remus laughed quietly at Sirius's description. "And then a man with a name on his shirt came up to me and asked if I wanted a 'telly'. I had no idea what he meant, and I was a little dazed from the lights and the noise, so I said yes so that he wouldn't think I was, well, suspicious. And he kept asking if I needed other things to go with it, and, well, there you have it."

So that was how a very Muggle television had ended up in their living room, along with whole stacks of very Muggle accessories, despite the fact that theirs was a decidedly magical house that had no electricity, and that was likely miles away from any broadcasting stations. 

Sirius looked relieved to have got this off his chest, and Remus reached out to pat his hand, because he understood. The events of the last few years, and especially this past one, had taken a great toll on the two of them, but especially on Sirius because of what had happened at the end. Remus was usually the one who went out in public because of Sirius's notoriety in the wizard world and his lack of experience in the Muggle one. But this morning he had been feeling weak from the full moon and had asked Sirius to go instead while he stayed at home to look after Harry. He'd had a feeling, though, that he might be asking too much of Sirius, but he had to let him get out sooner or later. This had obviously been too soon. 

Their life was far from perfect, but it was all worth it, he thought as he gazed down at Harry's sleeping face, soothingly peaceful underneath its messy cap of black hair. They were out of their depth and completely overwhelmed, but he trusted that, together, they would muddle through.

Sirius broke into his thoughts. "Now it's your turn. _How_ did you transfigure half our kitchen appliances into rabbits, and why can't you change them back?"


	3. Summer Camping Trip, 1987

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remus, Sirius, and Harry stargaze on a camping trip.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 2: “Every star may be a sun to someone.” – Carl Sagan.

_August 1987_

After a long day of hiking, during which they had to figure out how to get mud out of a fur coat (Sirius), change clothes three times (Harry), and fend off the advances of an amorous selkie (Remus), they happily relaxed at their campsite. Darkness had fallen completely and the stars were out in force, a spectacular array against the black sky. There was no moon, and the only light around was coming faintly from Sirius's wand. The night air was so pleasant that they had dragged their sleeping bags out of the tent and into a circle while they gazed up into the glistening heavens. 

Remus felt very content as he sat with his family there in the stillness of the night, and even more content once he surreptitiously softened his sleeping bag with cushioning charms (hoping that Sirius wouldn't notice). Harry, happy to put to use his astronomy lessons, was pointing out all the stars and constellations that he recognised.

"There's the Scorpion, Scorpius- that's its tail- and that's Antares, which means 'Heart of the Scorpion', and it's also called... Alpha Scorp something..."

"Alpha Scorpii," murmured Sirius.

"Alpha Scorpii. And Sirius won't be out until almost morning, right?"

"That's right," said Sirius. "At this time of year Sirius rises right before the sun."

"And makes everyone hot and miserable with the dog days of summer," added Remus.

"Don't listen to him," said Sirius, giving him an amused scowl.

"I know," said Harry loyally. "Sirius is my favourite star."

"The brightest star in the sky," agreed Sirius.

Remus sighed deeply. Sirius had enjoyed trying to irritate him with this in school, and now that Harry was discovering the stars, he was doing it all over again.

"And it's also called The Dog Star," Harry recited. "Just like our Sirius can turn into a dog. And it's in the constellation of Canis Major, which means Greater Dog."

"Very good, Harry," Remus praised him, while Sirius ruffled his hair. Sirius really was a good tutor, Remus thought privately (very, very privately).

"And the sun is also a star," continued Harry. He looked up at Sirius, his small face brightening in excitement. "Does that mean Sirius is a sun too?"

Sirius smiled at him. "I think it would be if it has planets around it." He glanced at Remus, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "So somewhere out there whole worlds could be revolving around me."

As Remus didn't have anything handy to throw at him, he settled for a hex. A small one. So as not to give Harry too many ideas.

"He turned your hair green!" laughed Harry in delight.

Rather than being dismayed, however, Sirius said conspiratorially to Harry, "It reflects his mood. He's green with envy that I'm a sun and he's only a moon." Remus fought the urge to bury his head in his hands as Sirius's face lit up with a new thought. "Moony! If I'm a sun and you're the moon, that means I'm more powerful than you!"

Remus rallied to his own defence. "One might also say that the moon is more powerful, because it can be out during the day, while the sun can never be out at night."

"But!" said Sirius, raising a finger as though making an important academic point, "Sometimes, such as tonight, the moon isn't out at all, while the sun is out every single day. In fact, the sun is what makes the very existence of the day!" 

"Though it's possible," said Remus with an air of innocence, "that Sirius might be no one's sun at all."

Before Sirius could reply, Harry patted his arm and said, "Don't worry. Sirius will be a sun to me."

"Thank you, Harry," said Sirius, sounding a little touched. Remus smiled at the sweetness as well, until-

"So, do I win, Moony?” asked Sirius with a wink and a cheeky grin.

Remus heaved a sigh and gave a long suffering look that was marred by a smile. “Fine, you win.” But he promised himself that when they got home and were in their own room, away from Harry's eyes, there would be torture. Yes, torture. Lots and lots of torture. And Remus would show no mercy. None at all.


	4. The Full Moon, August 1991

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The last full moon before Harry leaves to start Hogwarts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: 8- "The greatest gift of life is friendship, and I have received it." -Hubert H. Humphrey

_25 August 1991_

Wolf and dog ran joyously under the full August moon. The wild grasses and flowers slid smoothly under their feet as they raced one another across the remote hillside. Their necks stretched out as they each tried to get ahead of the other, but they were evenly matched. 

As they reached a line of trees, by unspoken agreement they turned around and continued their race back the way that they had come. All that existed for them in that moment was the earth, the wind, the stars and the moon.

But they could not go on forever, for this night another was with them, an eleven year old human boy. They thudded to a halt in front of him, and he patted their furry backs. 

Sirius transformed back into a human, still panting heavily, and he and Harry chattered together in a conversation that Remus didn't bother to follow. He couldn't transform; he was stuck in wolf form until morning, but he didn't mind. He raised his muzzle to the moon and howled. Harry and Sirius laughed, and they howled too.

^  
Remus woke lazily the next morning, in his natural form now that the moon was tucked away behind the rest of the heavens. The sun was wholly out, and he could hear his family clattering about their campsite. He was in their Muggle-style tent, blankets and pillows piled around him and thoughtfully laden with heating charms so that his muscles wouldn't be so sore from his exertions the night before. He lay there happily, grateful as always for how much easier his changes were than before.

The smells of cooking tickled his nostrils, and his stomach grumbled. He told it to be quiet; he wanted to lie still a little while longer.

He listened contentedly to Harry's voice excitedly telling Sirius about something. Remus had enjoyed this treat of the three of them all out at night together for his change. It was something of an occasion; it was the last full moon before Harry left to start his schooling.

In only a week's time they would be at King's Cross station, seeing Harry off on the Hogwarts Express to embark upon seven years of adventures at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. It was a prospect that was as terrifying as it was exhilarating, but it was necessary, and Remus was certain that it would only be for the best. Harry would finally get to move openly in the wizarding world, and Remus looked forward to seeing what he made of the Marauders' old haunts. He would meet Albus Dumbledore and Hagrid, learn magic, eat his fill of the Hogwarts feasts, get into all sorts of scrapes (if the Potter line bred true) and, most importantly, make new friends.

Remus wished him well. The greatest gift he had ever received in his life was friendship, and it had started at Hogwarts. Particularly- he smiled at the burst of barking laughter outside the tent- particularly the friendship of a certain black-haired scion of Dark wizards. The one who had sensed a co-conspirator when they started Hogwarts together, who had not only not minded that he was a werewolf but had also helped find a way to make it _fun_ , who had stuck with him through good times and bad, and who had the good grace to love him back when he had noticed certain...extra feelings. The one who had offered to raise an orphaned boy with him, and who as an encore to all of that had bullied the leading potions expert into inventing the Wolfsbane potion and then had found a way to make it himself, and to make it better.

He knew Harry would have challenges- he was famed throughout the wizarding world as The Boy Who Lived, and the _Prophet_ had already been trumpeting his impending arrival at Hogwarts. But Remus was sure that if a werewolf could find great friends there, then Harry would too.


	5. School Book Buying, 1992

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On a trip to Diagon Alley before Harry's second year at Hogwarts, he and his guardians have the honour of meeting one of the wizarding world's greatest celebrities.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 12: "About 90 percent of people are right-handed, says Corballis. The remaining 10 percent are either left-handed or some degree of ambidextrous, though people with "true" ambidexterity—i.e., no dominant hand at all—only make up about 1 percent of the population." - When thinking about this prompt, there was one HP character who immediately came to mind as someone who might claim to possess the rare gift of ambidexterity!

_19 August 1992_

This was to be Harry's second year at Hogwarts, but it was the first time Sirius had dared to go with them undisguised into Diagon Alley, so this before-school shopping trip was still something of an Occasion. The events of That Hallowe'en were now far enough in the past that the _Daily Prophet_ no longer referred to him as “accused murderer Sirius Black.” Since inheriting the family fortune with the recent passing of his last relative surnamed Black, he was now “eccentric recluse Sirius Black”. He wasn't sure if that was better or not; but nonetheless, they had deemed it worth a try for him to go out and about into wizarding society's most frequented marketplace, and so here he was on a sunny August day with his family as they made ready for Harry's new school year. 

Harry was anxious to meet up with the Weasleys, but first they were going to collect his assigned reading. “I still can't believe we have to buy _all_ of Lockhart's books,” he complained as they made their way along the cobblestone street. 

“You wouldn't need to buy _all_ of them if someone hadn't been overzealous,” noted Remus with a sideways glance at Sirius, who grinned unrepentantly. 

Some years before, Sirius had read Gilderoy Lockhart's guide to household pests, while Remus had tried a couple of his books about defeating Dark creatures. Both wizards had declared their respective books to be utter rubbish, until Sirius thought of a way to make them come in useful by demonstrating to Harry the effects of certain hexes on inanimate objects. 

“I didn't mean it that way,” said Harry quickly, in his endearing way of always sticking up for Sirius. “It's just that it's quite a lot of books to buy for one subject.”

“Yes,” agreed Remus, “the Weasleys will have trouble affording all of those.”

“I still want to see who your new professor is,” added Sirius. “I can't say I'm impressed with someone who thinks that _Lockhart_ is good educational material.” 

Their walk to Flourish and Blotts was uneventful; they got some curious looks, but they were happy to see that no one took issue with Sirius. But when they arrived at the book store, they were taken aback to find that it was completely packed, with a line spilling out the door. A sign out front hinted as to why: “LOCKHART BOOK SIGNING!” it proclaimed alongside the portrait of a well-coiffed blond man who winked at passersby. A large banner for the event hung from the upper storey of the shop.

“Oh for goodness-” Sirius muttered.

“The day's looking up, isn't it?” noted Harry sarcastically.

At the back of the shop, Gilderoy Lockhart was holding court at a long table where he was signing books with the air of someone doing the greatest of favours for the masses. He was someone who obviously took the utmost care of his appearance- his flowing golden locks looked to have been lavished with the most expensive magical ingredients money could buy; his gleaming white teeth literally sparkled; he wore blue robes that exactly matched the shade of his eyes; and he had carefully tilted his hat so as to be at just the correct angle to be called “jaunty”. 

The family of three winced to see that there was a photographer from the _Daily Prophet_ hovering nearby; they had not exactly had the best relationship in the past with _Prophet_ reporters. They decided to get the school books as quietly as possible.

Those waiting in line were mostly middle aged women, and so Harry's guardians were able to use their advantage of height and strength to break a path for him to gather his books. They collected _The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 2_ , as well as Lockhart's entire oeuvre, and with Harry almost hidden behind the tall pile they went to pay at the counter.

However, they were foiled as a voice rang out, “My word, it's Harry Potter!” Gilderoy Lockhart himself came wading through the sea of people, with the photographer scurrying after him. The adoring crowd parted obediently- “I got out of Lockhart's way!” one witch murmured in excitement.

Sirius sighed in exasperation. “Can I hex him?” he whispered.

“ _No_ ,” said Remus firmly.

“Can I, then?” muttered Harry.

Not noticing the disturbance he was causing to the rest of the crowd, Lockhart exclaimed, “Harry Potter, as I live and breathe! Well, isn't this a pleasant surprise. And you're buying my books, I see. I expect you want my autograph, and who can blame you? Would you like it with my right hand or my left? I can do it with both, you know."

"At the same time?" asked Harry. Sirius grinned. His godson had fully inherited Remus's cheek.

"No, no, of course not!" Lockhart laughed, albeit with a certain lack of sincerity. He opened the top book on Harry's stack and signed his name with a flourish. Then his eyes landed on Sirius, and his smile became even wider. “And I see you're with your godfather, Sirius Black! I beat you for the Most-Charming-Smile Award, you know- no hard feelings, I hope!” 

Sirius bared his teeth in what could only very optimistically be called an answering smile. Remus, however, was smiling enough for the two of them. Padfoot absolutely _hated_ being reminded of his time as _Witch Weekly_ 's most popular cover boy, when the female portion of wizarding Britain had been gaga over such a handsome wrongfully accused young wizard. He had won the magazine's Most-Charming-Smile Award in 1984, a couple years before Lockhart had started his streak of five in a row.

Lockhart gave a wink to the camera man and turned back to Harry. “And of course you will want a picture with me- and your godfather should get in it as well! I know he's a wanted criminal, and some might say it's not the thing to be seen with one, but you'll find, Harry, that no publicity is bad publicity.”

“But he's not a wanted-” Harry tried to say, but was interrupted.

"Here we go, smile!” 

He tried to put his arm around the boy to pose for the photographer. However, Harry's guardians were well used to fending off people who wanted to meet The Boy Who Lived. Sirius smoothly stepped in front of Harry, while Remus distracted the man by grabbing his hand and pumping it vigorously. “Gilderoy Lockhart, my word- it's been a long time, hasn't it?”

Lockhart turned to him in surprise, while the photographer snapped a picture much different from the one intended. “Do I know you?” 

“We were at Hogwarts together.” As Lockhart still looked confused, he added, “Four years above you, in Gryffindor.”

Lockhart clearly didn't remember him at all, but nevertheless he made a good show of it. “Oh of course, of course! I never forget a face- I say so in _Wanderings With Werewolves_. Have you read it at all? Of course you have. I'm not surprised you remember me from school- I know I left quite an impression. It must be exciting to have gone to school with a celebrity.” 

“Hmm,” said Remus noncommitally. “Weren't you the one who sent himself eight hundred Valentines one year?”

Lockhart beamed proudly. “That's right. It's all in the publicity when you're starting out. You see-”

Remus glanced over to where Sirius was standing protectively in front of Harry, who for his part seemed to be having an attack of the giggles. “Sirius, didn't you have three hundred sent to you one year?”

“Thereabouts.”

Lockhart looked as though he had found a friend. “You sent three hundred Valentines to yourself? Well done, well done indeed! Not quite eight hundred, but it's a start, it's a start.”

“No, you misunderstand,” Remus broke in. “They were all sent to him. By admirers.”

Lockhart's smile had faded considerably. “Three-three hundred?” he stammered in disbelief. “From real people?”

“Yes, it was the Hufflepuff girls, wasn't it, Remus?”

“That's right.”

“The Huff- what, all of them?” sputtered Lockhart.

“I'm fairly sure," said Sirius. "They all pitched in.”

“That was nice of them,” said Remus agreeably. 

“I thought so. Not three hundred girls, you understand, but they tried to send as many cards as they could get together, and it ended up being around three hundred.”

“Of course, of course... Well!” Visibly wrong-footed, Lockhart cast around for a way to get back on his stride...and found it. He raised his arms above his head. “May I have your attention!” The crowd shushed expectantly. He lowered his arms and drew himself up to his full height, having regained his confidence. “I have an important announcement that I know will thrill you all. As you know from my best-selling books, I am the wizarding world's foremost expert on Dark creatures.” Remus repressed a snort. “And so, without further ado, I will reveal that... _I_ am the next Hogwarts professor for Defence Against the Dark Arts!” As the crowd cheered, he puffed himself up even more. “Yes, this September I will be teaching The Boy Who Lived!”

The crowd applauded uproariously, drowning out Harry's “Oh no!” The photographer happily snapped pictures of the tumultuous scene. Sirius practically shoved some galleons at a sales clerk to pay for the books, and then he and Remus took the opportunity to hustle their charge out of the store. 

“That's our new professor?” Harry fumed. His guardians grabbed his shoulders and pushed him a couple shops away, in case he went back in to challenge Lockhart to a duel.

“I'm not happy either,” Sirius grumbled, as he dumped the books into their bigger-on-the-inside carry bag. “He may be famous now, but he was a bit of a joke in school.”

“You're just upset about losing the Charming Smile award,” Remus snickered.

Sirius shoved him good-naturedly. “He wasn't even the one right after me.”

“Oh, you were keeping track, were you?”

The reminder of this diverted Harry, and he asked, “Did Sirius really get three hundred Valentines in school?” He knew his guardians and their tall stories.

“Oh yes,” said Remus. "The Hogwarts girls were quite partial to him.”

“They were,” sighed Sirius, thinking of some of the more trying instances.

“They all wanted to date you?” Harry gasped. His guardians were delighted to see that he looked horrified by this idea rather than intrigued. Hopefully they still had a couple years before he became interested in anyone.

“I don't think that was really it,” said Sirius. “They just wanted to express their appreciation.”

“At one time Padfoot was accounted the handsomest boy in school,” Remus explained. “All the girls liked him, whether or not they wanted to go out with him.”

“It didn't matter, though. I only liked Moony.”

"And Quidditch. You liked Quidditch as well."

"Yes, and don't forget Honeydukes."

"I was trying to, thanks. My greatest competition."

"Poor Moony. His hidden sorrow." 

They wandered over to Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour and sat under the invitingly bright umbrellas to enjoy the sunny summer day. Florean himself came out, pleased to be serving such a famous family, and took their order: strawberry and chocolate truffle for Harry, peppermint and fudge for Sirius, and candy cane for Remus. After their ordeal in the book shop, Harry and Sirius both fancied some healing chocolate. Remus was fine- he was still amused by Lockhart's comment to Sirius.

“What were Lockhart's books like?” Harry continued their conversation as he spooned up his ice cream. “Were they any good at all?”

“It's odd,” mused Remus. “Many of the methods he describes are sound- not for werewolves, of course; everyone gets werewolves wrong- but even when he's right... well, he does talk about himself quite a lot. Among his deeds of derring-do he always manages to work in mentions of his favourite colour, his favourite foods... and then there's the way he goes on about his toilette.”

“It's why I tossed his household pests book,” agreed Sirius. “It was like an extended advert for hair care.”

“I hope he'll be a better teacher than author,” sighed Harry. It sounded like he wasn't holding out much hope.

“Cheer up!” said Sirius, clapping a hand on the boy's shoulder. “If he gives you a test question asking you to describe which perfume he applied before fighting a banshee, you come to us straight away. We want our boy to have the best education possible, you know.”

“I know,” said Harry, ducking his head with a pleased blush. Then he bit his lip consideringly. “But what can you do?”

“We'll have a word with Dumbledore,” promised Remus. “Or-” his expression became rather threatening- “with Lockhart himself, if we must.” 

This cheered Harry, and they spent an enjoyable rest of the day in Diagon Alley.  
*

 

The next day, a photograph would appear in the _Daily Prophet_ of a dazed-looking Lockhart shaking Remus's hand, with the caption, “Gilderoy Lockhart greets an adoring fan at Flourish and Blotts.” Remus would be teased about it for weeks.

~THE END~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! So, I am getting the biggest headache trying to work out the issue of the Black family inheritance. In the books, we have the problem of Sirius inheriting even though he was cast out of the family. I briefly described my take on it in the first paragraph of this fic- that Sirius inherited anyway by default after all the Blacks died, rather than after his mother died in 1985. My reasoning for this is that, in JKR's dates for the rest of the Black family, she was careful to kill off all of them right before Sirius escaped from Azkaban. His last male relatives, his grandfathers, died in 1990 and 1991. The last Black by name (as opposed to Blacks that had married out of the family), was a great aunt, who died in 1992. So the Black inheritance was clear for him as soon as he escaped Azkaban. 
> 
> Does anyone else have thoughts on this issue? I'd be happy to discuss in the comments. I ask because my next instalment will be about the death of Sirius's mother.


	6. The Death of Sirius's Mother, 1985

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sirius learns about the passing of his mother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 7: You make me smile.
> 
> So this is finally the last fic I wrote for the Dog Days of Summer livejournal community in 2017. (Posting it now because I have the *worst* habit of writing fics and forgetting about them- I'm not kidding). It will be the final chapter unless the community returns this year (in August).

_**Walburga Black 1925-1985** _

_Walburga Black nee Black has died at the age of 60 of natural causes. She is predeceased by her husband Orion Black and her son Regulus Arcturus Black. She was a member of one the great pure-blood families and took great pride in that fact. Her survivors include her father Pollux Black and her father in law Arcturus Black III, a recipient of the Order of Merlin. She is also survived by her other son, one time wanted criminal Sirius Black, who was disowned from the family. On the death of his mother, Sirius Black had no comment._

Standing in their kitchen, Sirius glared down at the paper. His _very_ brief time as a _possible_ Death Eater suspect was hardly worth calling him a “one time wanted criminal” four years later, but the _Daily Prophet_ certainly liked to act as though it were. He was about to make an angry comment to Remus, but stopped when he saw the man's positively murderous expression.

“I like that,” Remus snarled with a ferocity that would have given werewolves a bad name all by itself. “They **insist** on pretending the actual Voldemort sympathisers are respectable citizens, just because of all the money and connexions they have, but someone like you who's never done anything wrong in his life they go after.”

Sirius grinned. It always cheered him to see Moony getting shirty on his behalf. It made everything seem much easier to bear. “Oh, I've never done anything wrong in my life, have I?” he teased. That wasn't what Remus had said, well, on any given day.

“No, you haven't,” snapped Remus, still full of steam. Sirius thought he could actually see it coming out of the man's ears. “At least not compared to these... _people_. She died 'of natural causes', Merlin's beard. At only 60? All that Dark magic she used put her in an early grave, I'll wager, like the rest of your damned family.” He scowled at Sirius. “And how many Dark spells have _you_ used?”

Sirius almost quailed before Moony's fearsome expression. “Er, none.”

“Exactly. You even fought to protect everyone, and not one word of thanks, just accusations.” He glared at the paper again and _growled_. “And look at this. 'Sirius Black had no comment'. I wager that they didn't even try to contact you.” 

“Possibly they knew any comment I made would be unprintable.”

“They don't mention if they tried to contact your grandfathers, of course, who daren't show their faces after supporting Voldemort. I'm sure everyone at the _Prophet_ knows this very well, but no- for Arcturus it's a mention of his Order of Merit, which he only got because he gave money to the Ministry. And who knows how many Death Eaters he gave money to as well. Meanwhile they pretend that _you're_ the criminal.”

“It sells papers,” said Sirius, just to keep Remus going.

“Yes, well, be that as it may.” Unfortunately, Remus seemed to have run out of invective. He gave the paper another glare for good measure, then crossed his arms and regarded Sirius rather broodingly. “I don't know how you bear it, I really don't.”

Feeling both touched and uncomfortable, Sirius reached over to squeeze his shoulder. “It's not so bad,” he said. 

“But you can't show your face without-”

“Ah ah, none of that,” Sirius admonished quickly. He didn't like dwelling on this issue. “It's been getting better, you know it has. At our last picnic, only _one_ person tried to throw food at me.”

Remus smiled at him wryly and visibly let go of some of his anger. “Hurrah for progress, indeed.”

 

That evening, while Remus and Harry were in the boy's bedroom reading _Dennis and the Sparkly Wand_ , Sirius sat slumped on the sagging couch in their living room. It was colder than usual for the summer, and a great deal of rain was coming down outside, making it seem colder still. The magical fire in the fireplace wasn't doing much to dispel the chill; or perhaps it was just Sirius's gloom that made it seem that way. They could neither see nor hear the rain from their underground abode, but just knowing it was out there was enough for Sirius, no matter how many times Remus laughed at him about this. He knew Remus secretly felt it too; there was really no need for _that_ many layers on, surely.

In an attempt to ward off the unpleasant weather, he and Harry had fixed up the living room so that they could pretend they were having a proper summer. On the mantel, Harry had hung three drawings- a yellow sun against a clear blue sky, a golden beach by a turquoise ocean, and bright flowers on green grass. Their large, sparkly beach towel was spread over the floor, its charmed stars glistening against the dark background. On top of the towel rested their beach pail alongside things they had collected from past excursions, such as sea shells and pretty rocks. Some of the shells had been spelled to emit the sound of the ocean, and the room was now filled with the soft shhsshhing of waves lapping over sand.

Despite his cheery surroundings, his thoughts were reluctantly drawn to the obituary, and he gave the same mental flinch that he did at times when thinking of his mo...that person. Not his favourite subject. There had been a great many excellent reasons why he had left his family, most of which had to do with her. Shortly after running away, he had received a note that coldly informed him that he would be welcomed back under no circumstances whatsoever. A possible death was hinted at if he so much as tried. 

But then after That Hallowe'en, when the _Prophet_ pounced on the rumour of his Death Eater involvement, she had suddenly had a change of heart. He started receiving messages from her such as, “It appears that you may not be _entirely_ a disappointment. Your father would be, if not proud, then at least encouraged,” and “I will see this as a possible olive branch on your part. You may wait on me in your rightful home, and we will see if I _might_ reconsider your disownment.” 

He had been sorely tempted to send back a Howler or two but had given in to Remus's gentle persuasion to just ignore her. Eventually, the messages had stopped. He wasn't sorry.

At last, his brooding was interrupted by his partner in crime, who brought him a soothing cup of chamomile tea and then sat next to him on the couch. Sirius smiled gratefully and sipped the hot drink.

“Alright?” asked Remus after a moment of quiet.

“Alright, thanks.” He was feeling much less glum, with one of his two favourite people next to him and a warm cup in his hands.

However, Remus had something on his mind. “May I ask,” he said diffidently, “what this means for you, your mother having died? Legally, I mean.”

“Hmm. Nothing, I should think. My grandfathers are both alive, so I think I shan't have to do anything unless she's left me something- which I highly doubt.” He couldn't picture it; though perhaps she would give him Number 12 Grimmauld Place just out of spite, knowing how much he hated it. Unlikely, however, given how much she valued it as the home of her ancestors- as he had heard her rave many, many times.

“Ah. No danger of being the Black heir, then?”

“No, not with my grandfathers still living.”

“What happens when they die? Is there anyone who can inherit from them?”

“No- and I'm not sure what will happen then. I don't know if this has ever come up before, the last surviving member of a wizard family being someone who was disowned. I suppose it's possible they might reinstate me just because there's no one else- but, we'll see.”

“Serves your mother right if you inherit after all, after everything she's done.”

Sirius shrugged. He'd rather not think about his former family at all. His new one was all that mattered to him. He looked fondly at Harry's summer drawings- the three of them really should find a place to get away to. The entire country couldn't be drowning in rain, surely, and he really could do with a distraction.

“I sent her a Howler once,” said Remus suddenly.

Sirius almost choked on his tea. “You did what?”

“I sent her a Howler,” Remus repeated. “After, you know, after she kept harassing you about rejoining the family, or some such nonsense.” At Sirius's flabbergasted expression, he said a little impatiently, “Well, what was I supposed to do, let her keep sending owls for no reason?”

Sirius regained his voice. “You told me that _I_ shouldn't send a Howler!”

Moony blinked at him innocently. “Oh did I?”

“Yes, you did! I was going to, but you said not to- you said ignore it and it will go away.”

“Well, it did.”

“Yes, after _you_ sent a Howler!”

Remus stopped pretending that he didn't know what Sirius was talking about, and his expression became stern. “It was after that one letter. The one where she said- well, it's best not to repeat it. And I just thought, well, you shouldn't have to deal with that, but I told you not to send one because... because she didn't _deserve_ to hear from you, did she? Even if it was a Howler.”

Sirius stared at him a moment, before reaching out to take his hand. Remus readily curled their fingers together. “If we're talking about deserving,” he said, “ _I_ don't deserve _you_.”

Remus's eyes crinkled as he smiled. “I'll decide what I deserve, thank you.”

“And also what my mother deserves, apparently.”

“Yes, that too.”

They sat there grinning at one another, and Sirius thought happily that whatever else was going on, Moony was always able to make him smile.

~THE END~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Re the reference to Mrs Black's cause of death as possibly being aged from Dark magic- that idea came from looking at the Black family tree. JKR has said that wizards live longer than Muggles, and in the books Dumbledore is still full of energy at over 100. But you wouldn't know that from the Black family. Most of the Blacks died in their 50s-70s. Sirius's parents were 50 and 60. Since they were known for loving Dark magic, I decided that the use of this can prematurely age someone, or even directly cause their death.


End file.
